CHAPTER 4
What’s a first date without hiding
a body behind a dumpster together?
CAM DIDN’T WAKE UP until almost noon the following day. It seemed that being resurrected made one sleep like the dead. Ironic.
But it was fine that he was sleeping in.
I was a walking, buzzing ball of giddy excitement.
Cam had said yes to going on a date with me.
An actual date. And I was taking him on said date today.
I was also extremely nervous and spent far too much time picking out what I was going to wear.
Not that I thought Cam would care all too much what I wore, but I still wanted to put effort in my appearance for him.
This would be our first date, after all.
Well, unless we counted shopping yesterday as one, which I didn’t.
I was sitting at the kitchen table working on my third cup of coffee when Cam at last emerged from his room.
As I heard him coming down the stairs, I set down the book I was reading, one that I’d bought off the Darkmage Web, and watched as his sleep-rumpled hair peeked into view.
Black strands stood up wildly in all directions that my hands itched to finger through.
His hair looked... ridiculously soft. Which I knew for a fact that it was.
Standing in the kitchen doorway, he tiredly rubbed his eyes and let out a wide, sleepy yawn.
He was shirtless, only wearing a loose pair of pajama pants riding low on his hips.
I tried and failed to keep my focus glued to his face, but my traitorous eyes kept falling to those...
muscles. And that deep V disappearing tantalizingly beneath the waist of his pants was just...
wow. I could feel my mouth going dry, so I took another deep gulp of coffee.
When he spotted me, a sweet smile broke out across his face as he said in a voice husky with sleep,
“Good morning.”
I wasn’t at all prepared for how lovely Cam would sound after just waking up and I nearly swooned right out of my seat.
“Morning,” I replied in a voice nearly as rough. I quickly cleared my throat. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mhm,” he hummed and strode over to me, bare feet padding on the checkered tile. With a grunt, he settled in the seat directly opposite me.
Feeling uncharacteristically shy, I rose and maneuvered to the cupboard to pull down a fresh mug.
“Would you, uh, like some coffee?” I kept my back to him as I asked, if only to keep him from witnessing my fierce blush.
“Yes,” he said eagerly. “Thank you, Victor.”
My knees physically wobbled, growing weak. God, when he said my name... And in that deep voice of his, it made my legs turn to jelly.
“Creamer?” I asked hoarsely as I poured him a cup.
He hummed out another yes, but this time it sounded close. Really close. As in, right behind me.
I turned and nearly dropped the full mug. Which would have made me very sad. This mug was a miniature black cauldron and had a skull and crossbones on it with text that said, “Might Be Poison.” It was one of my favorites, right up there with the “best boo jobs” one.
“Satan,” I gasped with my other hand pressed to my chest in surprise. I hadn’t even heard him get up and walk over here. “What are you, a ninja? A ghost?” I cringed, “Oops, sorry. That was a little insensitive.”
Cam only cocked his head and blinked at me, so I laughed it off,
“Never mind. Here.” I handed him the cup and tried to sidestep around him, but he stepped with me to block my path.
He cradled the steaming cup between his hands, index finger tapping on the ceramic. “What will we be doing today?” he asked.
“Well, I have a few ideas, but it depends,” I told him.
“On what?”
“On what you like.” I smiled up at him and he grinned back, mirroring me.
“I’ll like anything as long as I’m with you.”
Oh fuck, man down, man down! My heart thudded violently in my chest as it threatened to burst free. Be cool, Vic. Just. Stay. Calm.
I ran my fingers anxiously through my hair, “Do... Do you like movies?”
His smile widened and he nodded.
***
That was how we found ourselves carrying a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas down a long, red-carpeted hall lined with movie posters.
I had convinced Cam to stuff some candy into the pockets of his jacket for extra snacks.
Seemed its many zippers came in handy for smuggling contraband goodies into a theatre.
We had looked up some of the movies playing before coming, and I’d had Cam pick. He’d chosen a horror romcom, and I had almost squealed with delight seeing as it was the one I would have chosen.
Because it was a matinee, the theatre was nearly empty as we made our way through the low-lit room and found our seats.
I heard Cam stumble a few times behind me, and I quickly realized he was probably having trouble seeing with the sunglasses still on. Well, it was dark enough in here and no one would be paying us any attention anyway. So, after we’d sat, I leaned over and pulled the glasses from his face.
He stiffened, seemingly unsure of what I was doing.
Once they were off, I found myself staring directly into his pale eyes.
Only a few inches separated us and the light from the big screen playing the pre-movie advertisements and trailers set his face aglow.
We watched each other for several long seconds that seemed to stretch almost expectantly, as if we were both waiting for something to happen while simultaneously being too afraid to act on it.
My gaze flicked to his lips, eyes catching on the way his lip ring glinted in the lights. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. None of my exes had ever had lip piercings. I bet it would feel so uniquely sweet against my own lips. A delicious contrast of hard and soft, warm and cold.
I only let the thought linger for a moment before I snapped to attention and leaned back into my seat with an awkward cough.
“You don’t need to wear those in here,” I told him dumbly, licking my lips and shoving the glasses into my pocket.
My heart was racing. When had it started beating so fast?
He nodded, those eyes tracking my mouth. Suddenly, a loud, theatrical boom through the surround sound announced the beginning of the movie. So, I turned to face the screen but could see from the corner of my eye how Cam continued watching me for just a few more seconds.
I unnecessarily adjusted my own glasses – a nervous tick I couldn’t prevent.
My cheeks burned but we both turned our focus to the movie.
Well, I tried and failed, distracted as I was by his hand between us.
I couldn’t help but notice the way Cam casually rested his hand on the armrest. I watched his fingers tap, tap, tap on the plastic.
It was his right hand, so his natural one, not the arm I had attached for him.
He had two tattoos on the backs of his fingers.
The classic heart potion bottle with flames coming out of its top was on his ring finger while a perfectly detailed tiny skull decorated his index finger.
I admired how large his hand was, muscular with long, thick, calloused fingers. Dirty thoughts began plaguing my mind. Like what that hand would feel like on my body, my skin, inside me... So, I stared instead at the small freckle at where the back of his thumb met his wrist instead.
What a cute freckle. Distracting enough. Yes, adorable. Sweet. So sweet that I wanted to taste it. Lick it...
No, I scolded myself. Bad Vic.
I looked back up to the movie screen and... Nope, I had no clue what was going on. Who was that guy? Didn’t the film just start? How was I already confused? I suddenly had no idea what the movie was about. Especially not as Cam reached that hand over, palm up before me.
My heart thudded like I was a middle schooler on a first date. Swallowing thickly and fighting the urge to wipe the nervous palm sweat on my jeans, I reached out and intertwined my fingers through his.
Cam jolted, and his grip relaxed briefly before tightening his fingers around mine.
A low chuckle vibrated from him, so I cast a side glance at him. He was smiling softly down at our joined hands. His thumb, the one with that damned freckle, rubbed idly against the back of my hand.
He leaned toward me and I practically held my breath as he whispered in my ear, warm breath tickling my neck,
“I was going to hold the popcorn.”
I blinked. Then blinked again. What? Oh... Oh.
He hadn’t been offering to hold my hand, he’d been offering to... Wow, I felt like such an idiot as embarrassment rushed through me. Instinctively, I moved to pull my hand from his but he refused, holding on even tighter.
And that was how we sat for the rest of the move.
Even as we were walking out, still hand-in-hand, I couldn’t say for the life of me what the movie was about. But I sure could list off no less than ten weirdly specific details about Cam’s hand and fingers. And more than twice that of things I knew I wanted him to do to me with them.
With the first part of the date a total success in my books, I pulled Cam along after me to the second half.
As we were standing at the entrance of the theatre’s arcade, the combined noise from the various games filled the air. I gazed up at Cam expectantly and he gazed right back, eyes once more hidden behind the sunglasses.
And we were still holding hands.
“I think that I’m... very bad at arcade games,” Cam said, still smiling at me.
My grin was playful as I added, “Then let’s go be bad together, shall we?”
***
We were terrible. At every single game. Even Whac-A-Mole. Seriously, who was bad at Whac-A-Mole? But boy was it fun. As the afternoon progressed, Cam seemed to loosen up more and more, smile brighter and laugh harder.